Grace
I like to see you dance, to
take your hand
in mine and swing you around, till
you are laughter, not quite yet
the shimmer of wind,
the shadow of air.
When you do not dance, I search for you.
Your wondering glances do not lead me to you.
I never saw the wind,
or the air, even when it wrapped me
in its love.
I cannot see you.
Dance you must so you become
something solider than the mist
that is the sadness of your tears.
Dance you must so I can follow the dancing
steps of light to the fondness
in your eyes, dance you must so I can reach
you
before anger veils your love
and I am no longer myself.
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